Though I have a passing curiosity at some of the major pageants, I did miss this year's Miss University show that was on last night. I think Puerto Rico won. Whoever it is, her picture is splashed on the front page of the Miss Univserse site - her face all contorted, with one eye closed and the other half closed. It's a really terrible picture - not that I'm complaining.

I enjoy seeing beautiful women look silly. Case in point - the all-star girl in my high school was an absolute knock out in every sense of the word. I happened to snap a particularly horrible picture of her one day, and oops! It made it into the Yearbook. The photography editor has those rights, you know.

So, apparently, there are other bitter, pudgy individuals out there. What else could explain the horrible "national costumes" found at the pageant?




I'd suggest going through them all. There really are some doozies. I do have a problem, however, with Canada's national costume. Personally, I would have put the gal in full-on hockey gear, but they went... in another direction:


Excuse me? Since when is Canada known for their showgirls and/or ostriches? Where's the salute to clean air, gay rights, and beavers? For the love of God! Where are the beavers!?!??!

As part of my never ending birthday celebration, my two great friends brought me to Halifax for booze, gambling, and some reminiscing.




We left early Saturday morning after a greasy breakfast. Liser (in the back) had just finished working overnight, and was a bit tired. She tried sleeping, but to no avail. She pulled through like a little trooper, though!

Our first stop was Sheet Harbour, my adopted home for a year in 2004. Though I don't miss the isolation, the distance between MW, and I, and the lack of good produce, I do miss the job, the people, and the scenery. I hadn't been back since I moved, and I ached to see the place again.


















Not surprisingly, not much had changed, though there were some notable changes. Sheet Harbour now has an internet cafe. Woa. I wish I would have had that when I was there. It would have saved me having to get my own internet account on my crappy, broken laptop. Then again, I probably wouldn't have been able to have topless webcam sessions with Mr. Wonderful.




















Another VERY important change is that the giant water tanker cum restaurant/pub formerly know as Flippers has been re-opened. I finally got to experience dining in a giant, windowless steel drum. I regret not having a bar there when I lived there, but I'm so pleased to know it's been resurrected.

During lunch, I had a great chat with my former boss, Myrene. There was sadly little dirt to chat about, but it was a great reconnection. Also, I got another box of condoms (a gross - 144), so I should be good for another few months.

Though I don't have any pictures, on the way to Halifax (along the gorgeous Highway 7), we stopped at Clam Harbour beach. This is hands down my favorite beach in the world (not that I've travelled much). The beach itself is clean and full of soft white sand, the water is clean, pest free, (though cold) the water is always full of fun waves. The undertow is extremely powerful, but is definitely good exercise!

So, after a full day at the beach, we finally reached our finally destination. We stopped at Lush to shop around a bit (I'm a big fan of their bath bombs!), and then checked into the hotel. And we were starving. Ravenous, even. We decided to walk down to the waterfront to find a good place to eat.

We stopped at a pub, looking forward to a good meal, but the waitress was a total cunt (that's right, I said it), who berated us for ordering water before our (anticipated) meal. Here are our reactions:















If you notice in the picture on the right, the waters we ordered were poignantly left, hardly drunk, on the table. We paid for our mandatory (apparently) pops and liquor, and left for somewhere more.... hospitable.

We ended up back at the hotel to a yummy meal, with a great waitress.

The next day, Vicki visited with friends while Lisa and I spent the day along the waterfront. We took an overpriced "Harbour Hopper", which was a good time. I do, however, blame that excursion (and my own stupidity) for my rather nasty burn I got on my face, chest, and arms.




Ah, Kevin. Our tour guide. Top notch. Very funny and cheeky, and also not bad on the eyes. I was disappointed to hear after the tour was over that he was actually from Ontario, though I won't hold it against him (as there are other things I'd rather hold against him, if you get my drift). For instance, he told us that the Split Crow pub - the oldest pub in Halifax - used to be called the Spread Eagle. But they had to change the name for obvious reasons. Don't believe me?








Oh, how this picture cracks me up. I was sticking my arms up in the air to get some decent pictures along the tour, and I accidentally snapped this picture. Boy, he looks pissed.












Kevin also told us that the red coast guard pictured here was actually the very same boat that was in Titanic. Neat, but useless trivia.











The fuzziness in the top right corner of this photo is actually fog rolling in. Shortly after our tour ended, the harbour was pea soup. It last for a few hours, but then left as quickly as it came in.









Vacation with two people who both work shift work is a bit difficult. Everyone's sleep patterns were a bit off, so while Lisa took a nap to catch up on her sleep, Vicks and I decided to get coffee, and do more exploring downtown. We decided to take the cheapest harbour tour - the $2 ferry to Darthmouth. It was worth significantly worth more than that, as we got to view some excellent, uhm, scenery.





Oh, momma. Dark skinned, smoldering God, that one is. I love have the man on the right is giving me the old stink eye. He's probably thinking of his wasted youth, his beer belly, and his lack of hair.

Back to the Adonis. Let's go in for a closer look, shall we?












Sweet baby Jesus, he is fine. Thank god we were in a boat, and could get away with blantantly snapping pictures of total strangers, also, no one would have noticed the puddle on the deck I left behind.





Our final night in Halifax, we got all dolled and liquored up and headed to the casino. I did particularly well on the slots. I trippled my initial $20, and took the $40 in winnings to the black jack table, where I lost it all. Thankfully, my co-dependents and I all managed to play at the table, somehow, for a good 2 hours with our great dealer, Jeff, I think. The details are a bit fuzzy, at best.

And so ends another great weekend. Next week, I will be heading to Bahston with Liser for.. I'm not really sure why I'm going, actually, but I am going.

For those of you who have not yet found the awesomeness that is Stuff On My Cat, I direct you attention to this link.

There are 3 things to note:

1) Yes, ladies and gents, that is my fleshy knee at the top right hand corner of the picture. Please masturbate furiously.

2) We finally got a new couch! Pretty, yeah?

3) That is the one and only Sweetie! After several failed submissions with Sexy, Sweetie made the cut. She is much more open to having things piled on her when she's sleeping. Sexy is just an independent spirit (read: bitchy). To Sexy's credit, though, no one can ever top the picture of her licking a glass dildo. It's just that no website will publish it (besides my own, that is).

So, apparently, I can't have kids. The adoption process for Sweetie was more than enough to give me a few gray hairs and wrinkles.

Long story short, however, all is well! After a rough few days, Sweetie (left) and Sexy (right) are now at least tolerating each other. Sexy is being somewhat of a bitch, but if Mr. Wonderful suddenly moved in a new girlfriend, I suppose I'd be a bit irritable, too.

I am officially a crazy cat lady. I ordered a cat condo online (for cheap!) and it came this morning. However, Mr. Wonderful is also a crazy cat man, since he put it all together for me before I even woke up. Good man, he is. I think he deserves a blow job.